


Things I'll Never Say

by thingcalledlove



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst and Humor, Declarations Of Love, Drunk Dialing, Drunken Confessions, M/M, Unbeta'd, college!Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-10
Updated: 2012-12-10
Packaged: 2017-11-20 18:48:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/588534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thingcalledlove/pseuds/thingcalledlove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles drunk dials Derek and says a whole lot of things he probably shouldn't have.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things I'll Never Say

“I hate you.”

Derek stares at his cell phone, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He puts the phone back to his ear.

“Okay,” Derek responds slowly.

“I wanted you to know that,” the voice on the other line says adamantly.

“So you called me at,” Derek pauses to look over at the time on his phone, “two in the morning to tell me something I already knew?”

“You know nothing, Derek Hale,” Stiles slurs in what Derek decides is a very butchered British accent. 

“Stiles, are you drunk?” Derek asks, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Nope,” Stiles says, popping the p, “I’m totally sober.” There is a pause after that, and then Stiles starts to giggle, “Sober is such a funny word. Sober, sooober, soooooooober.” 

“You are drunk,” Derek deadpans. 

“Maybe a little,” Stiles agrees, “But it doesn’t mean I hate you any less.”

“Stiles, I really don’t care,” Derek says as he shifts in his bed, “I’m trying to sleep. You’re in college now, isn’t there anyone else you can go bother? Call Scott, call Lydia, I don’t care.”

“You were asleep?” Stiles asks, ignoring the second half of Derek’s statement all together.

“Yes,” Derek growls, “And if you don’t mind, I would like to return to that.”

“Are you naked?” Stiles inquires with a hitch in his voice.

“Am I? Jesus, Stiles, no,” Derek says sounding baffled at the turn this conversation has taken. 

“Ah, that’s a shame,” Stiles sighs. “If I were you, I would walk around in all my naked glory. You have the body of a Greek God, you know that?”

“Uh...” Derek manages to say, now thoroughly confused. 

“Don’t get me started on those abs,” Stiles says wistfully, “What I wouldn’t give for a chance to just run my tongue across them. And that ass, dude, you have an ass I could bounce quarters off of. It’s actually nauseating how perfect you are.”

“Stiles,” Derek warns, but Stiles seems to ignore him, continuing to rant.

“I hate you so much, man,” Stiles laments. 

“Stiles,” Derek tries again, “You’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re saying. Just hang up the phone and go to bed. If you still want to have this conversation, we can...in the morning.”

Derek listens to the silence as Stiles seems to think about this very carefully. A major part of Derek hopes that Stiles hangs up. He knows that there is no way in hell that Stiles will want to have this conversation in the morning. The kid is drunk; with no idea what he’s doing right now. Hell, he probably won’t even remember making this call. However, a tiny part of Derek, kind of wants to know what Stiles is going to say, which probably the reason he hasn’t hung up on the kid yet. Derek tries hard not to think about the way his body reacted to the imagery of Stiles licking his way across his abdomen. 

“If I don’t say this now, I don’t think I ever will,” Stiles says finally sounding a little deflated.

“Whatever you want to say,” Derek replies, “I’m sure the sober you doesn’t want me to know.”

“The sober me can fuck off,” Stiles slurs loudly. “He needs to grow some balls.”

“You do realize that you’re talking about yourself as a separate entity,” Derek says dryly, rolling his eyes even though Stiles can’t see. It’s just a natural reaction Derek has when dealing with Stiles.

“God, Derek, you’re horrible,” Stiles announces.

“I don’t know, you seem to have a thing my abs,” Derek replies, getting some perverse sort of enjoyment from riling up a drunken Stiles. 

“You. I have a thing for you.”

Derek stiffens. He wasn’t expecting that. He though Stiles would continue to wax on poetically about how much he enjoyed Derek’s physical attributes. This conversation however seemed to have once again taken a drastic turn.

“God, your face. I just want to run my fingers over the stubble of your perpetual five o’clock shadow. I want to kiss those pouty lips senseless until they stop being so fucking beautifully pouty. And don’t get me started on your jaw, which is so perfect it should really be criminal. God, Derek, you, you should just be outlawed altogether. It should be illegal to look like you. You know what? I’m going to be a become a judge just so I can make you illegal. That is my new life goal.”

“I don’t think it will work,” Derek says, for lack of anything better to say. His mind is still trying to comprehend what Stiles is rambling about. 

“Of course it won’t,” Stiles mumbles, ‘I though being in love with Lydia was bad, but it’s nothing compared to being in love with you.”

“You’re not in love with me, Stiles,” Derek counters sitting up in bed. He’s wide awake now.

“Jesus, don’t tell me how I feel,” Stiles snaps, “I know how I feel, okay. Do you think I want to be in love with you?”

Derek doesn’t say anything; he just listens to Stiles’ loud breathing through the speaker.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” Stiles says finally. “About the way you look after a hard training session, covered in dirt but with that content little smile on your face you think no one sees. The way your voice sounds when you’re tired, gruff and low. Or how you’re the most selfless person I know. Even when you tell us you don’t care, you are always still the first person on the scene when something goes wrong, and you always sacrifice yourself for the good of others without a second thought. It’s actually ridiculous how much I love you. How much I want you to stop beating yourself up for a mistake you made as a kid. I know your family is dead, I get it, I get how much it fucking sucks, but it kills me to watch you walk around as if you died along with them that night.”

Derek doesn’t speak. He’s not sure what to say. Stiles saw through the impenetrable facade that Derek wore day in and day out, and it scares the fuck out of him. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Stiles say sharply, “You have nothing to be sorry about, dude. Just, I don’t know. Live. For me, for the pack, hell for yourself more than anything. Just live again.”

* * * * * 

Stiles wakes up with a major headache. He feels like shit, and one glance at the clock lets him knows he’s missed all of the days classes. He barely remembers what happened last night, other than the fact he went out to a party with Scott and Allison and got himself completely wasted. He can recall bits and pieces of the rest of the night. He knows that Scott dropped him off to his room, but that’s where the memory ends.

There aren’t any strangers in his bed, which is a good sign. He drags his laptop over using whatever energy he has and loads up facebook. He doesn’t seem to be tagged in any pictures from the night before, and no one wrote on his wall about some stupid thing he did. Another good sign. 

Stiles pushes the laptop away and picks up his phone. Other than a text from Scott asking him if he’s alive, it looks good. He’s in the clear. It doesn’t seem like he did anything too bad, and he feels good about that. He’s about to put his phone down when his call list catches his eye. There is an outgoing call placed to Derek Hale.

Stiles click the name to bring up information about the call. He frowns when he notices it was placed very early in the morning. He pales significantly when he looks at the call duration. What could he have possibly talked to Derek about for an hour and forty two minutes?

**Author's Note:**

> It was supposed to be a crack fic, but then it kind of took a turn there near the end. Oh well, I hoped you liked it nonetheless. 
> 
> Also, the fic is unbeta'd, so all the mistakes are my own.


End file.
